


gonna have myself a real good time

by Catja



Series: Kink Memes 2019 [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Non-Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Rape Fantasy, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catja/pseuds/Catja
Summary: Clarke, a dark alley, and a stranger.





	gonna have myself a real good time

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, minimally edited. Title from Queen. Prompt in the end notes.

He’s waiting for her in the alley behind the bar when Clarke steps out for a break from the noise of the crowd inside.

“Got a light, sweetheart?” he asks, moving toward her. He’s not quite close enough to violate her personal space, not yet, but she can smell his sweat and cologne.

She steps back, but there’s a wall behind her, and he’s between her and the door. If she heads toward the street, she’s not sure she’ll be able to outrun him.

“No, sorry,” Clarke says, keeping her tone as light and carefree as she can. “Not a smoker.”

“Course not,” he says, chuckling, taking a step closer. “Pretty little princess like you?” It’s dark in the alley, but he gives her body a long, slow look anyway. “Not a care in the world, huh, princess?”

Clarke gives him a smile and a shrug. “I’ve had my share of trouble, but I’ve been lucky.” She puts her hand on her hip, casual as anything, goes for her phone in her back pocket.

But it’s not there, and she remembers, panic starting to rise in her chest, that she left it charging behind the bar under Gina’s careful watch. She left her purse with the can of mace at home, not wanting to risk forgetting it if she drank too much.

“Mostly,” she says, hoping her fear isn’t showing in her voice, “I don’t like the taste.”

He closes the distance between them, tugs on the braid falling over her shoulder. “Well, now that’s just too bad.” 

Clarke looks around, but there’s no chance of escape, and nothing handy to use as some kind of weapon. 

When he grabs her shoulders and kisses her, there’s nothing she can do to stop him.

She starts to protest, but all he does is take the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, licking away the taste of her rum and coke, the one she’d stolen from Raven when Gina was too busy to replace her gin and tonic. All they’d wanted was a girls’ night out while the boys were away, and now she’s pinned against a cold brick wall, a huge rough hand working its way up her sweater. 

Clarke wishes she’d worn a proper bra, not just the tank top with one built-in. The sweater was thick enough that nothing would show. It would have been nice to have another obstacle.

His hands are warm, at least, and despite what he said his mouth tastes like beer, not smoke, which is some small mercy. His mouth is even warmer, and he kisses just the way she likes. She can’t help but kiss him back. It’s been so long since she’s kissed someone with facial hair. Her face is going to be all scratched up, whenever he lets her go.

“There you go, honey,” he says, leaning down to press his mouth to her throat. He bites her, hard, and licks the sting away.

“No, please,” Clarke says, trying to twist away. “Please don’t leave a mark.”

His hand comes up around her throat, not yet choking her, just showing her that he can. “You sure you want to be telling me what to do?” He sucks hard, just for a few seconds. Clarke’s pale enough, she knows she’s going to have the most awful bruise. He moves up to her jaw, marks her there too, and then leans down to mouth at the top of her breast. “You can behave for me, can’t you princess.”

Clarke turns away, as much as she can. Maybe there’s nothing she can do, but at least she’s not going to give him any reason to think she wants this.

He pulls her sweater down, then her cami, letting her breasts pop up. He releases her neck only to squeeze her breasts, pressing them together and kneading at them. “Such nice tits, princess,” he says.

Clarke can’t help but moan at the feel of his mouth, teeth grazing just right against her nipple. He presses his face between her breasts, beard scratching at the soft skin, pressing kisses and sucking marks all over her. 

She’s not expecting his hand on her cunt, just cupping her firmly. It feels like she’s burning, there’s no way he can’t feel it. He rubs, just for a second. The friction of her lace panties and her jeans feels delicious. 

He pulls back from her breasts, pressing hard against her cunt. “Aw,” he says, breath warm against her ear. “This pussy needs some attention, doesn’t it. Why don’t you undo you jeans for me, princess?”

Clarke shakes her head, feeling tears well up. Maybe he is making her feel good, but she won’t let him make her complicit in this. 

He slaps her face, pinches her nipples until she can’t help but cry out. “Do you want me to strip you naked?”

She can feel the tears streaming down her face as she unbuttons her jeans. He runs his hands down her sides and shoves her jeans and underwear down to her knees. She’s even more trapped now, couldn’t walk away too easily, not with her legs confined, and these stupid heels she wore. Clarke barely even wears anything taller than an inch, nowadays, since she doesn’t like being too tall. On a good day, she can barely manage a brisk walk for any length of time in heels. There’s no way she could get away tonight. 

But at least she didn’t wear too much makeup. As long as she can sneak into the bathroom to rinse her face off, once he’s through with her, no one will even notice she’s been crying.

“See, now, that wasn’t too hard,” he says. “Was it?”

“No,” Clarke mumbles. She doesn’t want to risk getting hurt again. Avoiding punishment isn’t the same thing as consenting.

“You’re being awfully good for me. I think you deserve a reward.” He drops to his knees and spreads her legs, as much as he can, and thrusts two thick fingers into her cunt. “See, I’m even gonna stretch you out a little, get you ready to take my dick.” He sucks her clit into his mouth, holding it between his lips and flicking his tongue at her. 

It’s not long before he decides she’s ready for a third finger, and probably only a minute after that before Clarke’s coming, hands covering her mouth so no one will hear her. That’s her favorite way to come, having a mouth and fingers so rough between her legs, it never takes her very long.

When he stands up, Clarke can see her wetness all over his face. He kisses her again, and Clarke can’t help but lick away her familiar taste.

She hardly even notices him undoing his own pants, getting his cock out. When he slides his cock inside her, so easily with her heels putting them at the same height, all Clarke can do is let her head fall to his shoulder, burying her whimpers against his neck. He’s stretching her out so good. It’s been a few days since she’s had anything inside her bigger than her finger, and even that was just a dildo, and not a particularly large one. 

It’s too good. Clarke can’t fight it anymore. 

She lets her hand fall, two fingers rubbing hard at her clit the way she likes when she’s being fucked, but he tears her hand away, presses her wrist against the wall. Clarke whines in protest.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He presses his thumb against her, rough and hard, dancing on the line between perfect and too much. 

Clarke comes again, cunt pulsing around him, and it’s not too long after that he thrusts inside her, deep as he can, and buries his own groan in her hair. 

He steps back, panting a little himself. 

“Looks like you made a mess, princess,” he says. “Better clean it up.” He presses down on her shoulders until she’s squatting, not wanting to kneel properly half naked in an alley. 

Clarke takes his soft cock into her mouth, swallowing down all traces of their combined taste. She’s used to her own taste, and as far as come goes, his isn’t awful.

By the time she’s done licking him clean, he’s half hard, but it’s too soon for him to get hard enough to fuck her again. She sighs in relief when he releases her.

“Thanks, princess,” he says, pressing one last kiss to her lips.

Clarke doesn’t watch him walk away, down toward the street. It takes her a minute to get her clothes back on. She’s a mess, her panties are soaked through, her jeans nearly as wet, and the neck of her sweater is stretched out, hanging lower than it had been twenty minutes ago. 

She slips back into the bar, stopping by the bathroom to clean herself up. She splashes some cold water on her face to erase all signs of tears. It doesn’t do enough to calm her blush.

Clarke gives herself one long look in the mirror. She’s not quite back to normal, but she doesn’t really look like she’d been raped in the alley, either.

When she gets back to her booth, her seat’s been taken by Bellamy. Shaw and Murphy are back, too, filling up the table.

Bellamy pulls her down in to his lap, and she lets him, if only because she doesn’t want to grab herself a chair right now.

“I didn’t think you’d be getting back so soon,” she says, letting herself soak up his warmth. “You said it’d be another three days.” She’s not surprised, though, that Bellamy cut their camping trip short. Bellamy’s an active guy, but not really the hiking type. 

“Yeah, I lied,” he says, an unrepentant grin on his face. “We were never going to be gone two full weeks.”

Gina comes by with a pitcher of beer for the boys and Clarke’s phone. “He did text you,” Gina says. “You were gone a while though.”

Clarke glances down at her phone, checks her notifications. _Meet me out back,_ it says, and she smiles. “Well, it worked out okay.” 

“Lucky us,” Bellamy agrees, hand stroking up and down her back. Clarke melts a little. 

Gina moves on to her next table, and Bellamy waits until the others are distracted to nudge his forehead against hers. “You okay?” 

Clarke takes a deep breath, savors his familiar scent. “Yeah. I’m great. That was perfect.” She presses a soft kiss to his lips, careful not to go too far in public. “You definitely need to shave, though,” she says, loud enough for the others to hear. “I can’t believe you managed to go two weeks without shaving.” She scratches lightly at the damp scruff.

“All part of the experience, princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Clarke likes to give up control but wants to know what it feels like when it's taken from her and Bellamy is happy to oblige.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr.](www.catja.tumblr.com)


End file.
